


A Definite Upgrade

by Genuinelies



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Friendship, Getting Together, Hint of Angst, Love Confessions, M/M, PWP, Rare Pairings, Vinqy, pwp with emotions
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-29
Updated: 2019-10-29
Packaged: 2021-01-06 02:26:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21219032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Genuinelies/pseuds/Genuinelies
Summary: “You would have made a good Inquisitor, Varric,” Max said. “The anchor aside.”Varric’s look was surprised. “What makes you say that?”“You just have a way about you that makes people feel at home.”“Maybe that’s just you, Max. I know lots of people who want to kill me.”----------A PWP with some emotions tossed in for good measure.





	A Definite Upgrade

**Author's Note:**

> I've RP'd Dragon Age for years, but this is my first attempt at contributing to the fandom in the smallest ship. Come join me <3

“Hey. Your Inquisitorialness.”

Inquisitor Maxwell Trevelyan looked up from his scouring of the war table map in front of him, his expression brightening automatically when he saw Varric Tethras standing in the doorway.

“Late night?” Varric gave him an inscrutable half-smile.

Max noticed then that the candles had almost burnt down to their bases; he rubbed a hand across his face.

“Just…got caught up,” Max said. “Did you need something, Varric?”

“Come on now, that’s not very charitable.” Varric was teasing him, a smirk playing on his lips. “I don’t have to need something from you to wonder why you missed Wicked Grace. Said you’d join us tonight.”

“Maker’s arse.” Max’s face fell. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I completely forgot.”

“Third week in a row, Inquisitor.”

“I’m sorry, Varric. I’ve been…” He frowned down at the map; there were pockets of the Dalish mobilizing. More artifacts related to Fen’Harel – to _Solas_ – had been surfacing. If he could just manage to-

Varric cleared his throat. When Max looked back up, Varric’s expression was unreadable.

Varric waved a hand. “Wasn’t that exciting, unless you count Sera putting honey on Ruffle’s cards so she couldn’t cheat. Thought I was going to witness a murder.”

Max’s attention wandered again, his fingers trailing across the path he’d been tracking on the map.

“Max.”

Max’s head snapped up at that. His eyebrows drew slightly together, his lips curling sideways.

“Did you just…?”

“Oh, that gets your attention, does it?” Varric chuckled.

“Well, you’ve never even given me a proper nickname, and just now – not even ‘Trevelyan’ or ‘Maxwell’, you just – jumped straight to ‘Max’.”

“Seemed like the thing to do.” Varric was smiling at him, his broad lips kindly amused. “And it’s a nickname. Whaddya know.”

Max huffed out a disbelieving laugh.

“Problem?”

“No! No, I…no.”

_Say it again,_ he wanted to beg.

Varric’s smile softened, as though he’d heard his thoughts.

“Snuff out the candles,” he suggested. “Come have a drink with me. Get some dinner. This stuff can wait.”

Max wanted to protest, but Varric was raising an eyebrow in challenge, and he’d already blown him off once. Several times, in fact, in the past month, he remembered with chagrin, however unintentionally.

“All right, Varric.”

Max took one last frustrated look at the war table, then made a circuit of the room to snuff out the candles.

Varric patted his back when he got to the doorway. “Good man, Inquisitor.” He held open the door for Max to go through, then shut the latch behind them with a final-sounding click.

“Thank you,” Max said.

_‘Inquisitor’,_ he added silently with disappointment.

“I lost track of time.”

“Happens to the best of us. Which you happen to be, go figure.”

“Now, that’s not true,” Max protested. He held up the stump that remained of his left arm. “I don’t even have the anchor. I’ve relied on all of you.”

“Makes you feel like you have to prove something, doesn’t it?” Varric asked lightly, with a pointed look toward the war room.

The realization made Max speechless for a moment. Varric continued before he could answer.

“You’re more than just an arm to us, Max, even a freaky glowing arm with rift-closing powers. Other than the demons, it was usually just you out there, helping people with your kindness and that overly sparkly axe of yours. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“My axe is the right amount of sparkly,” Max quipped instead of dealing with the rush of gratitude he felt toward Varric. “The sparkles blind my enemies.”

“The rest of us, too,” Varric shook his head, but laughed.

They reached the tavern, and once again Varric held open the door for Max. Soft music wafted through the air, but it was so late at night that the tavern was otherwise mostly empty.

“So, what are you doing up this late, anyway?” Max asked as they found their way to a secluded table in the corner.

“Wicked Grace just got out, and losing to Ruffles just makes me hungry,” Varric said, waving over a server.

Max chuckled. “At that, you should probably just have food delivered to every game.”

“Hey, I’ve won against her,” Varric protested. “…Once.”

_Varric always made it so easy to relax,_ Max reflected.

“You would have made a good Inquisitor, Varric,” Max said. “The anchor aside.”

Varric’s look was surprised. “What makes you say that?”

“You just have a way about you that makes people feel at home.”

“Maybe that’s just you, Max. I know lots of people who want to kill me.”

The server arrived before Max found a reply.

“And for what it’s worth,” Varric added, “I’ve told you things that I haven’t told anyone else…and it’s not because you’re inquisitive.”

“Is that right?”

Varric paused, with one of his inscrutable smiles.

“Well, how’s this?” Varric shook his head. “Some news on the Bianca front. You know you’re one of the only people who knows about her. She and I? We finally called it off.”

“Is that so?” Max’s mouth was suddenly and inexplicably dry.

“I tried to get over the whole ‘betrayal’ thing…turns out I’m just not that big of a dwarf.”

“It means you have values, Varric. And boundaries. Those are healthy.”

“Yeah.” Varric’s mouth twitched sideways. “Who would have guessed. Anyway, that means all of this-” Varric ran his fingers through his chest hair. “-is on the market.”

Max laughed, but Varric’s look was strangely guarded.

“What, you don’t admire this glorious coat of manly hair? That just means you have bad taste.”

“I admire it, I admire it!” Max waved his hand with another laugh. “I admire everything about you, honestly, Varric.”

Varric stopped laughing, and Max felt a blush creep hotly over his face.

“Is that so?” Varric’s eyebrows were slightly raised.

Max was saved from a response by the timely arrival of their food.

“Maker’s breath, I’m starving,” he groaned.

“That’s what happens when you skip a meal or two regularly, Max.”

Max felt his pulse jump every time Varric sad his name, and he wished desperately that he was less aware of that fact. After stuffing a few bites of food into his mouth and washing it down with a solid gulp of beer, he met Varric’s eyes again.

“Are you doing all right, Varric? About…the Bianca thing. Is there anything I can do?”

Varric waved a hand. “It was a long time coming. Don’t worry about it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yeah.” Varric was suddenly and disconcertingly serious. “I’m very sure.”

“Then I’m glad.” Max smiled at him.

“I’m glad you’re glad. Hey, I haven’t told you the best part of tonight yet. Bull told this real doozy of a story.”

Varric launched effortlessly into a tale that made Max nearly choke on his beer more than once; his eyes were stinging with tears of mirth by the end of it. His laughter had drawn more than a few curious stares from the sparse tavern-goers.

“Let me walk you up to your room,” Varric said, sobering him again once they’d finished eating.

“Making sure I get into bed instead of heading back to the war room?” Max gave him a curious look, but didn’t protest.

“Something like that,” Varric muttered, but he was unusually subdued and fidgety on their walk back. He followed Max into the stairwell leading up to his quarters and shut the door behind them.

“Come up for a drink?” Max asked.

Varric smiled up at him, but then looked down at his feet. When he met his eyes again, his face was unmistakably nervous.

“Look, Max. I have a confession to make.”

Max’s stomach plummeted.

“Please don’t say you’re an ancient dwarven god who wants to kill us all for the betterment of your people.”

Varric coughed on a laugh.

“No, no, nothing like that.” He paused. “Know how I said that I lost the game of Wicked Grace tonight?”

“…yes?”

“Well, we made a few bets. Mine happened to be that I had to take my…the object of my affections out on a date.”

Max’s expression fell. He’d had no opportunity to stop it; he tried as best he could to regain neutrality.

“So, who’s the lucky woman?” _Be happy for him. He deserves it. _“Need me to help? Is that what this was about? You can just ask, without-”

“Max, Max, stop.” Varric ran a hand through his hair. “That’s just it. I _did_ just take the object of my affections out on a date…even if he didn’t realize it.” There was a pause. “Sorry.”

Max’s eyes widened.

“It’s you.” Varric met his eyes steadily. “Please tell me this…doesn’t come out of the blue for you.”

Max’s heart was hammering in his chest.

“No, I…” Max swallowed thickly. “This…isn’t a joke? A prank? A dare?”

“No joke, no prank,” Varric said. He sounded weary, as though he’d expected Max’s response. “I swear it. I would have said something sooner, I just – had some thinking to do about Bianca.”

“You called me Max because you’ve been trying to get in my pants.” Max’s dry amusement held a question.

Varric’s eyes snapped to his and held; they were unmistakably hopeful.

“Yeah,” Varric laughed after a moment, his shoulders seemingly relaxing. “Did it work? Bianca’s never had a nickname either, you know. And you…you’re just more than a single trait to me. I can’t narrow you down enough for a nickname. You’re everything, Max.”

Max reached up, and gently cupped Varric’s cheek.

“Say something.”

Max knelt on the stairs, as awkward as it was, and pressed his lips to Varric’s. It was more tender than he’d intended.

Varric remedied that quickly enough; he gripped Max by the hair, his tongue shooting into Max’s mouth and plundering it greedily. Max moaned around it, sucking. Varric made a noise of rumbling approval deep in his throat. Losing himself in the kiss, Max tilted sideways, unbalancing and failing to catch himself with his missing arm. Varric steadied him.

“Well,” Varric chuckled, wiping spit from his lips. “That’s my answer then.”

“You never asked a question,” Max rejoined breathlessly.

“Let’s get you into bed, Inquisitor.”

Max had never run up the stairs so fast in his life.

“Feel free to get naked,” Varric called from behind him, seemingly taking his sweet time to follow.

Max complied; one-handed, it took longer to disrobe than it used to, and he realized suddenly why Varric was considerately giving him space.

Except, he was wrong about his guess; when he looked up, Varric had apparently followed quickly enough; he was already there watching him with a heated, dark look, his own fingers working off his clothes with deft quickness.

“Maker’s breath, Varric,” Max murmured.

“Yeah, same,” Varric responded distractedly, stepping out of his pants and smallclothes. He was erect, thick and reddened with arousal. Max didn’t have much opportunity to gawk – Varric crossed the room in the next heartbeat, his fingers finishing what Max had started with his own clothes until Max too was naked.

Varric pushed him back until he hit the mattress and bounced. Varric’s hands were on his thighs, pushing them wide, and before Max could even think his mouth was on his arousal.

Max choked on a groan, arching.

“Varric, come up here,” he got out.

Varric pulled off, leaving him trembling. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. Straddle my face.”

“That is so hot.”

Varric climbed over him until his muscular legs bracketed Max’s head. Max ran his hand up his thigh and gripped his ass, pulling him down until he entered his mouth with his length. Max sucked greedily and Varric doubled over with a curse. Max took him in until his balls hit his chin and his nose was buried in his thick hair.

“Maker’s hairy…_Max._” Varric’s voice was strained.

Max hummed his approval, but tapped him until he could pull off to pant, “Help me out. Fuck my mouth, Varric.”

“Shit, Max. You sure?”

“This has been a fantasy of mine for a very, very long time.”

Varric groaned. Max squeezed his ass again, then pushed a finger inside. Varric cried out, arching. “That’s good. Fuck, that’s good. All right, here I come.”

“That’s the idea-”

Varric gently rutted into his mouth, cutting him off. Max swallowed his precum needily, moaning to send vibrations into Varric’s bulky length, Varric’s mouth was open and Max watched him voraciously.

_He was making him lose control. _Varric was always in control. Max thought he was losing his mind with happiness. He lapped greedily at Varric, but finally tapped his hip again. Varric pulled away immediately.

“Too much?”

“Perfect,” Max corrected. “But I’d like you inside of me before it’s too late.” He removed his finger and wiped it on the sheets.

“Really?” Varric sounded incredulous.

“Isn’t that how you thought this would go?” Max was honestly confused.

“Honestly? I’m so into you I started this with the intention of doing absolutely anything you wanted.”

Max wet his lips, his eyes wide.

“I didn’t think you’d want to do it the other way.”

“You’re a weird guy, Max. You make me want weird things.”

“Hey, it’s not that weird,” Max protested with a laugh.

“No, it’s not,” Varric retracted, softening. “Just weird for me.”

“I want you in me, Varric.”

Varric lowered himself over Max’s body, and after kissing him deeply, he began working his lips over Max’s jawline and neck to his chest. Max drew his legs up, opening himself for Varric.

“One second,” Varric said. “Nice view.” He patted Max’s ass, then hopped off. There was rustling from the foot of the bed, then he returned with a vial in hand.

“Came prepared?” Max teased.

“Came hoping,” Varric said. He oiled his fingers and between Max’s legs, then pushed a finger inside of him as his fist wrapped around Max’s cock. He began pumping him and working him wide simultaneously, and Max writhed with pleasure, mouth parting in a silent cry.

“Maker’s breath, you haven’t been touched in years, have you?”

“Sorry if that’s not what you were expecting,” Max managed to say.

“Hey, Max. Look at me.”

Max looked down, and the sight of Varric, naked and working him over with both hands, made him moan.

“You’re perfect, Max. Hand, no hand, experience, no experience. Maybe I should wait to tell you this, but I’m completely in love with you, Inquisitor.”

“Oh, that works out, then,” Max panted. “I love you too, Varric. You’ve been the best friend I-_shit!”_

Varric was pushing inside of him, a devious smile on his lips. He held Max’s legs open as he entered him in short, powerfully insistent thrusts. His hands ran soothingly over Max’s thighs.

“That’s it, just relax. There we go. You’re doing good.”

Max reached up and cupped Varric’s face, sweat beading on his own brow at the stretch.

“Just a little more. It’ll be good, I promise.” Varric pulled out, then snapped his hips hard until he was seated.

Max cried out as Varric hit a spot that made Max’s world go brightly hazy with pleasure.

And then Varric continued to thrust, hitting that same spot again, and again.

Max’s groans were torn from him. He scrabbled for purchase with his hand and legs as Varric began pushing in earnest, the bed creaking and Max sliding over the mattress. Varric’s own name and curses were drawn from Max in a senseless litany.

“You’re so handsome,” Varric praised. “So beautiful, Max. That’s it. Tell me how it is for you.”

“I love you,” Max choked out. “You’re perfect. Maker, I’m not going to last.”

Varric’s hand immediately found his length, and Max was coming in a hot rush of bliss. He squeezed himself around Varric and Varric groaned loudly then shouted, his hips rutting frantically until Max felt himself being filled with wet warmth.

They were panting and sweaty by the time they calmed. Varric pulled out and flopped to the side, scooting upward on the bed until he could pull Max against his chest. He raised Max’s stump of an arm and kissed it, making Max look upward in surprise. Varric smiled at him.

Max kissed Varric’s strong jaw, and Varric pressed his lips to Max’s hair in answer.

“Hey, Varric,” Max said after a moment of peaceful silence.

“Yeah, Max?”

“Good news.”

“What’s that?”

“My family doesn’t come with assassins. That I know of, at least.”

“A definite upgrade,” Varric chuckled. “Sorry I come with Hawke and Hawke’s sense of humor.”

“Hey, I get along with Hawke,” Max protested.

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Varric drawled. “Shit.”


End file.
